


a gift fit for a lover

by saltandlimes



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gift Giving, Good Loki (Marvel), Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Schmoop, Valentine's Day, a tiny bit of angst, or at least not evil, set sometime after AoU in a universe where Loki never tried to take the throne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 18:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandlimes/pseuds/saltandlimes
Summary: Thor can't help but be nervous. He thinks he's gotten everything right. A box of chocolates and a note saying how much he loves his brother - that's what Natasha said to do. This way, Loki will know how important he is to Thor.The only problem is, Thor’s a little new to Midgard, and maybe Valentine’s day isn’t the best day to be giving your brother a gift to demonstrate your “brotherly” love. He might accidentally think it’s a gift from a lover.





	a gift fit for a lover

**Author's Note:**

> +Imagine, if you will, a good Loki joining the Avengers sometime after AoU but before Civil War. Don't imagine too hard, because you'll spot the holes in the AU. Only look hard enough so that you can see Loki palling around with Tony, and cozying up to Wanda. 
> 
> +Where did all this fluff come from? Don't ask me.

Thor pushes open the door slowly. Inside, Loki’s rooms are quiet. His brother is off somewhere, probably working with Wanda, trying to understand the similarities in their powers. Thor lets out a long breath, tension draining from his shoulders. He opens the door the rest of the way. The sitting room in bathed in green light; it’s filtering through the cushions drawn across the tall windows that line one wall. A book lies abandoned on the couch, its cover worn by Loki’s insistent fingers. Along the opposite wall, the workbench stands abandoned. If not for the dark stains and scattered scorch marks, Thor would think it never saw use at all. And, he thinks ruefully, if not for Jarvis’s constant complaining. The program is continually frustrated that Loki’s experiments seem beyond simple quantification, that they appear not to fall in line with the physical laws programmed into him. 

Loki laughs whenever Jarvis brings it up. “They perfectly well make sense. It is not my fault that you were not programmed to account for seidr.” That always leads to an argument with Tony. The man cannot seem to accept that he is not going to wake up some day and be able to understand Loki (or Wanda, for that matter).

Thor turns away from the workbench, smiling to himself. His footsteps are loud as he walks across the wooden floor, and he pauses before the door to Loki’s bedroom. He stands there for a few moments, turning his gift over in his hands. It seems strange to walk into Loki’s room like this, so casually. Loki has always been fiercely private about his bedchambers, was so even when they were children. He’d barged into Thor’s any time he’d pleased, even if Thor was asleep, or changing, yet any time Thor did the same, he found himself unceremoniously expelled from Loki’s room in a blast of seidr. 

Thor shakes himself. They are children no longer. If he leaves his gift out here, who knows if Loki will notice it today. And it has to be today, at least according to Natasha. 

He shoves open Loki’s bedroom door just a little too hard, and it bounces off the wall with a dull crash. Thor winces, but catches it as it swings back, leaving it open as he steps inside. 

The covers are rumpled, pulled back from one side of the bed to expose the hollow print of Loki’s body on the mattress. Books litter the floor, and a journal sits open on the bedside table. Its pages are covered in some diagram Thor only vaguely recognizes, a series of knotted ropes that have to symbolize seidr, and a set of lines woven in-between the ropes that Thor does not understand. Thor shakes his head, making his way across the room to stand next to the bed. 

He reaches down and plumps up the pillow with his free hand. The imprint of Loki’s head disappears, but Thor fancies he can still feel the place where Loki slept, can still rest his hand on the exact spot where Loki’s cheek pressed against the soft cloth. He grins lopsidedly, pulling his hand away. It seems strange to leave his gift here. It’s a marker of how intimately he’s penetrated his brother’s guard, of how relaxed Loki has become, that he is able to do this. For a moment, it seems strange as well that the only sign of that should be a box placed on Loki’s pillow. 

Thor squares his shoulders, shaking his head yet again. If he leaves his gift in the sitting room, there’s a chance Loki won’t open it today. He might rush past, exhausted from a long day of training, and never notice that Thor had left him something. Natasha’s voice echoes in Thor’s head. It has to be today. 

“Only a single day for the feast of love?” Thor had asked. “That hardly seems adequate.”

“It’s probably not,” Natasha had agreed, “but it’s mainly an American holiday, and they hate to give time off.”

“Time off what?” Thor wondered. 

“Work. If Valentine’s day was more than one day, people would want to have fun and not be at work, and most companies don’t like that.”

Thor had nodded, not sure what he was agreeing with, but not interested enough right not to learn more about “companies” and “time off.” Instead, he’d plied Natasha with more question about this Valentine’s day, including what was considered an appropriate gift. 

“Chocolate,” she’d told him. “Sometimes jewelry, or little stuffed animals. Flowers.”

Thor had nodded, then ordered Jarvis to procure a suitable amount of Valentine’s chocolate for someone deeply loved. He’d picked it up when he got back from an utterly uninteresting meeting with director Mace. Now he stands with it clutched in his hand, hovering over Loki’s bed, about to set it down. He’d seen a picture of this on an advertisement on the way back from Shield HQ, flying low through New York, cloaked. A box of chocolates just like this one, in the shape the Midgarders consider to represent the human heart, sitting on a fluffy white pillow. It had stuck in his mind, and now Thor lays the box down gently, stroking one finger over it. Then he turns, and almost runs from the room. Hopefully Loki will understand it for the sign of love it is, rather than a strange invasion on Thor’s part. 

***

Loki sighs as he walks into his rooms. His temples ache, his whole body sore from working with Wanda for hours on end. The kid has real talent, but trying to figure out how she manipulates seidr, all instinct and natural ability rather than long study, is more than a challenge. It’s helped out by the fact that she hasn’t yet learned to mask the glow of her power, and so Loki can follow the long strands of it with his eyes, watch the knots of power and unpick how she’s woven them together, but it still takes concentration and effort. He sometimes spends an hour reworking a spell with his own weavings, just so he can explain to Wanda exactly what she’s doing, and help her refine her control. 

It’s a good thing these training sessions only happen once every few weeks, otherwise Loki would have to spend more time soothing his sore muscles. 

He stretches upwards, stripping off his tunic with a wave of his hand. His shoulders throb, and he rolls them backwards. He’s going to take a long soak in the tub before the Avengers meet for their weekly team dinner. Loki walks into is bedroom, flushing as he stumbles a little just inside the door, even there is no one to see. He doesn’t look around though, just heads straight to the bathroom. The tub is huge and luxurious, with high, clawed feet and porcelain sides. Loki smiles to himself as he turns on the taps. If there’s one thing he hadn’t expected when his brother had dragged him off Asgard and invited him to join this ragtag band of human fighters, it was that they would understand luxury fit for a prince. He’d underestimated Tony Stark however. 

The water steams, and Loki frowns a little. It cools slightly with a flick of his fingers and he steps inside. He’s never really understood the attraction of a scalding bath, even though Thor swears it works wonders when one aches after battle. Loki, himself, prefers the water to be just warm enough to leach tension from his muscles, but not enough that his cheeks pink up in the steam, or his temples start to sweat. Bathing is for getting clean, not for sweating. 

He splashes water across his face, luxuriating in the feel of his whole body loosening up. His legs stretch long and pale in front of him, his hips narrow and boney. There’s a bruise on one side of his ribs where he fell after Wanda had mis-tied a knot in her weavings and her spell had failed just as she was using it to lift Loki off the ground. Loki had caught the side of a table with his ribs as he tumbled a foot to the ground. He’d glared at her, his tongue forming harsh words, but Wanda had just laughed. The girl can be far too sensitive at times, but not when she and Loki are alone together. 

Loki runs a hand over his ribs, and then lets it wander down to cup around his soft cock for a moment. He fondles himself a little, not trying to get himself hard, just enjoying the feeling of his hand on his prick. He bites his lip as his fingers run over the sensitive skin just below the head. Reluctantly, though, he pulls his hand away. He doesn’t have enough time before dinner to enjoy himself, and he doesn’t like to rush that sort of thing. Instead he leavers himself up. 

His room is pleasantly cool when he steps back inside it, his hair still wet from the bath, a towel wrapped around his waist. Loki’s hair hands down in wet strands about his face, and he pads barefoot across the room. 

That’s when he notices it. 

There’s a red box sitting on his bed. In fact, it’s not just on his bed, its nestled on his pillow, a bright white ribbon wrapped around it and tied in a bow. Loki freezes, sending out tendrils of seidr to wrap around the box. They slip across it, but find nothing amiss. He takes a deep breath, padding silently to the side of his mattress. On the top of the box is a missive, written on creamy paper. 

_Loki,_ it reads in round Asgardian script, _They tell me that today is the Midgarder’s celebration of love. It is apparently traditional to give chocolate, and knowing, as I do, how much you love sweet things, I have procured some for you. Happy Valentine’s day. You have all my love, my brother, as always, Thor._

Loki sinks down to sit on the mattress, his heart beating so hard that he can hear his pulse in his ears and his chest heaving. He stares sightlessly at the box on his bed for long moments, hardly breathing. Then, slowly, carefully, he reaches out and picks up the little piece of paper. Before he can stop himself, one finger traces over Thor’s closing line. “You have all my love, my brother, as always.” He mouthes them, tasting them on his tongue. 

Valentine’s day is a day for lovers.

He knows that much. Now, though, he wonders if Thor knows it too. Why would Thor have given Loki a gift on this, of all days, if he knew? Why would he have sent Loki a present that screams of romance, of care, of adoration? Loki is his brother. 

Loki shifts, his cock hardening as he runs his fingers over the words again. He’d never considered this, that Thor could be as twisted as he is, that he could have brought Loki here, far away from the prying eyes of their family and friends, just so that he could have Loki in the way Loki has always dreamed of. He’d never considered that perhaps Thor’s heart beats faster when he thinks of Loki, just as Loki’s does when he lies in bed late at night, a hand wrapped around himself and Thor’s image fixed in his mind. 

Loki shakes his head. It’s not possible. The box of chocolates stares up at him from the bed. It’s not possible, but right now, it seems probable. 

***

Thor is already perched on one of the high stools at the bar just outside the dining room when Loki makes his way down for dinner. Loki’s cheeks are flushed, his hair damp, and a white ribbon is clenched between his fingers. Thor beams at him. Loki has found his present. He knew it was a good idea to leave it on the pillow, rather than in the sitting room. Loki catches his eye and blushes harder, looking away from Thor and sitting down on the couch next to Sam. 

Thor swivels the stool around to face them, feeling big and bulky and too obvious in how his eyes track Loki across the room. He wants to ask Loki if he liked the chocolates, if he’s already tried them, but Loki isn’t looking at him anymore, just twisting the ribbon between his fingers as he answers some question of Sam’s. 

Wanda interrupts them as she walks in, a red line high on one cheekbone showing off a cut recently healed with seidr. Sam raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Rough day?” he asks. Wanda nods. “Loki worked you hard?”

“I think I gave as good as I got. I accidentally dropped him on the side of a desk.”

Thor stands up off the stool with a start. Loki has had far more injuries that seem far more serious, but perhaps this one is greater than he lets on, and that is why he has yet to speak of Thor’s gift. He tries to catch Loki’s eye, but Tony walks in before he can say anything. 

“Doing ok, kiddos?” he asks. 

“Never better, Tony. Wanda was just telling me about how she accidentally tried to break our seidrmadr today,” Sam says, and for a moment Thor’s worry fades away in a flare of pride. His new friend has taken to the bits of Asgardian terminology they’ve tried to teach him like he was born to it. 

Tony looks over at Loki, raising an eyebrow skeptically. “I didn’t even know you two _were_ breakable,” he says. 

“Not easily. My lady Wanda did nothing more than bruise me,” Loki replies. Thor’s worry returns in a flash. Loki’s voice is a little strangled, and his eyes flick to Thor as he speaks. 

“What have you got there anyway?” Tony asks, eyes catching on the bit of ribbon in Loki’s hands. “That better not be a prank to get back at her.”

Loki snickers, rising and bowing to Tony with a flourish. 

“As if I would ever do such a thing,” he says, smiling coyly. “In truth, I’m not sure what to say about it. It is the wrapping from a rather unexpected Valentine’s day gift.”

Tony’s face splits into a wide smile. He claps Loki on the shoulders, laughing. 

“Do you have a secret admirer? A new lover who you have failed to tell us of? You know, Loki, the myths don’t make you out to be particularly choosy in who you take to bed.” 

Loki opens his mouth, seeming as though he is about to answer, but Thor finds words rolling off his tongue before Loki can speak. 

“Why would you ask my brother that, Tony? It is no business of yours,” he snaps out, then flushes. 

Tony turns to him, raising an eyebrow. “Valentine’s day, Thor. I suppose you don’t have that. Another thing Earth clearly wins on. Holiday for lovers. Lots of sex, and booze and chocolate, and yelling if you forget to get your girlfriend something…” Tony trails off, his whole face freezing. His eyes go wide in horror, and then he turns on his heel. 

“See you later,” Sam calls. 

“Pepper, dinner reservations, I’m late,” Tony tosses over his shoulder as he speeds from the room. 

He leaves them standing there, Thor staring at the empty air Tony vacated. He can see Loki poised halfway through stepping towards him, one hand reaching out as though about to catch hold of Thor’s tunic. Time seems to slow as Loki’s face crumples in on itself. His hand jerks back and he rocks on his heels, his eyes shuttering and his shoulders rounding as Thor manages to catch a breath. 

“Loki…” he breathes. It’s all falling into place at once, why Loki won’t look at him, the broken way Loki’s eyes flare now, Loki’s nervous hesitation when he came into the room, the soft excitement in Loki's voice as he spoke to Tony. 

“Don’t,” Loki hisses, his eyes darting to Wanda and Sam, who are both snickering over near the couch, looking after Tony. 

Thor shakes his head. He reaches out and grabs Loki’s wrist. It feels fragile and small in his grasp, and at first Loki tries to tug away. Thor holds on tight though, and pulls Loki towards the door that leads back to their rooms. 

“Where’cha going?” Sam calls after them. 

“Not hungry,” Thor growls as he pulls Loki after him. Loki huffs a small breath of disagreement but says nothing. Instead, he follows Thor on feet that drag and slow the closer they get to their living chambers. 

***

Thor pulls Loki inside his rooms with a sharp jerk of his hand. Loki slams the door after them, slumping against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Thor turns away, pacing down the length of the room and then turning back to Loki. Loki’s eyes are fixed on the floor, and his knuckles are white where they clutch at his sleeves. 

“Loki…” Thor starts again. 

“Don’t, Thor. Let’s just… forget about this and enjoy dinner?” Loki hisses the words, still not looking up. 

“What did you think when you found the candy?” Thor asks, plowing on, ignoring Loki’s request to leave this alone.

“I don’t know, Thor. What do you think I thought?” Loki snaps, and now, when he looks up, his eyes blaze. He pushes himself off the wall, stalking towards Thor like a panther circling a long awaited meal. 

“I… I just wanted to make you happy,” Thor says, turning so he can keep Loki in view. 

“Oh really? What makes you think I need you to be happy?” Loki snaps. 

“I don’t!” Thor protests. “Or… not really. Only, Loki, I missed you so much when I was here without you and I wanted you to know how happy I am now that you’re here.”

“Is that all?” Loki snarls. 

“You’re my brother, Loki,” Thor whispers. Loki is close to him now, too close, and Thor’s hand comes up to grab the back of his neck, a habit borne of long, long years together. 

“Yes,” Loki hisses. His hair is damp against Thor’s fingers, and Thor fancies that he can feel the tension in the few inches between their bodies. 

“I didn’t mean- I didn’t know-” Thor starts, and then swallows heavily as Loki’s fingers come up to tangle in his hair. 

“What didn’t you know, Thor?” Loki snarls, his eyes flashing and his voice a harsh counterpoint to the soft brush of his fingers.

“I didn’t know you wanted me,” Thor blurts out, swallowing hard, trying to pull the words back inside his mouth the moment they escape.

“And you think you know now?” he whispers.

“Yes,” Thor sighs. “Loki, I know you. I love you more than anyone, know you better than anyone. I saw how you looked out there.”

“You should be screaming, running away, sending me back to Asgard so you never have to see me again,” Loki says bitterly. 

Thor laughs. The tension drains out of him all in a rush, and he’s left staggering in his wake. He clutches harder at Loki to keep himself upright. For a few moments he stands there, trying to catch his breath, panting in relief. Loki, though, tenses even more, his shoulders drawing up and his entire seeming to shake. 

“Loki,” Thor says, when he can finally speak, “I would never, ever leave you again. You’re my brother.”

“That’s why you should leave,” Loki snarls. 

“Freya and Freyr are sister and brother,” Thor tells him. 

“That’s different.”

“How?” Thor asks, genuinely curious.

“They love each other,” Loki’s bravado collapses all at once, and he looks down at his feet in frustration. “They’re in love with one another.”

“Do you doubt I love you?” Thor asks, his heart aching a little. 

It’s Loki’s turn to laugh now, but it’s not a laugh of relief, of joy, but rather a bitter chuckle that slips from his lips to rattle jarringly in Thor’s ears. 

“Of course not. As much as you love anyone who isn’t you, Thor.” 

“What?” Thor asks, his voice breaking on the word. Loki tugs lightly at his hair, his hands playful even as his voice is hard. 

“Come now, Thor. How could the rest of us ever compare to you? I know you think about it every day, ask yourself how the rest of us could ever measure up?”

Words get stuck in Thor’s throat. They bubble up, only to halt halfway out of his lips, tripping over one another and forming an almost palpable mass in his mouth. To his uttermost horror, his eyes prickle, and he feels them start to water. He dashes them away with his free hand, almost hitting Loki in the face in the process. 

“Are you crying?” Loki asks. 

Thor shakes his head, but another tear runs down his cheek, wetting his beard. Loki’s face falls, his harsh facade falling away abruptly, and he chews on his lip. 

“Look, Thor, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not bad or something. I, of all people, can’t fault you for being more than half in love with yourself. How could I? You’re perfect. I just… I just wish that I could be enough.” Loki’s voice becomes a whisper at the end, and Thor winces. 

“You are, Loki,” he says, then hiccups. Tears are leaking steadily out of his eyes now.

“Don’t lie to me,” Loki gasps. Thor has slid his hand around to cup Loki’s cheek, is rubbing a thumb over his sharp cheekbone. 

“I’m not lying, Loki. You’re my only brother, my best friend. You’re my guide, my better sense. You ground me when I lose myself to battle and rage. You followed me across the realms just because I asked you to. You more than measure up. I love you.”

“Not in that way,” Loki mutters. 

Thor pauses, mulling over the words for an instant. Then, like a flash of lightning hitting Mjolnir, like a crash of thunder heralding a late afternoon storm, like the sharp roar of rain in a sudden downpour, something slots into place. He gasps, his heart beating at double time and his fingers trembling where they cup Loki’s cheek. 

“I do,” he whispers, his voice cracking as though he has never used it before. “I do, Loki. I think I have never loved anyone else.”

Loki’s eyes go wide. He pulls back, staring straight into Thor’s eyes. 

“Are you feeling well, Thor?” he asks. He glances at the hand wrapped in Thor’s hair. “I… I did not intend to wish this upon you.”

“I am not bespelled, Loki. There is no seidr at work here.” Thor brings his other hand to cup Loki’s cheek. His hand's still wet from his tears, but he hardly notices. Loki is staring at him with wide blue eyes, two spots of color high up on his cheeks. 

“I… I do not know how that can be,” he admits in a whisper.

“I think,” Thor starts, swallowing, “I think I told you this afternoon, but I have only just realized what I myself intended. Loki, I am not as oblivious as you think me. Do you imagine that I might not notice the romantic nature of this Midgarder holiday? I think… I think I did notice, and something inside me knew what to do.”

“Thor, that hardly makes sense,” Loki scoffs, but his eyes are bright with hope. 

“Perhaps not. It does not matter now, though,” Thor says. 

Loki’s face falls, and Thor realizes how the words sounded. He takes a deep breath. This has gone on long enough. He cannot have Loki believing that he is insincere in his desire, in his love. He leans in. 

Loki’s eyes go wider than Thor has ever seen them. Then Thor presses their lips together, and forgets about whether or not Loki believes him, forgets to worry about whether or not Loki is surprised. Loki’s mouth is soft underneath his, with hardly a hint of stubble on his cheeks. At first, it is still. Then, when Thor sucks Loki’s bottom lip between his, Loki surges against him. His hand goes to tangle more fully in Thor’s hair, cupping his skull, pulling Thor closer and closer. Thor comes willingly, sucking and biting on Loki’s lower lip, working their mouthes together. 

Loki tastes more familiar than Thor would ever have expected. He has slept surrounded by Loki’s scent, on hunting trips or, when they were younger, after Loki snuck into his bedroom late at night. Thor has tasted Loki’s skin before, sucking poison from a wound after Loki was bitten by a monstrous viper on Muspelheim. He has wiped sweat from his brother’s brow after a long day of training. Loki tastes of all those things, and of something new as well, flame and passion and icy determination. 

He bites harder on Loki’s lip, and Loki squirms in his arms. Thor slides his hands down from Loki’s cheeks, resting them heavily on his shoulders. He squeezes, tightening his hands as though he can hold Loki there with the force of his body, keep Loki from changing to air and smoke, hold him so tight that even seidr won’t slip from between his fingers. Loki moans, pressing even closer to him that Thor would have believed possible. 

They fit together perfectly. They’re much of a height, but Loki is narrow, made of sinew and whipcord muscle and frantic power. This is the first time, Thor thinks to himself, that he has truly felt big, his broad chest pressing against Loki, his arms huge and heavy on Loki’s shoulders, and his thighs thick as tree trunks. He moans into Loki’s mouth, pressing him backwards towards the couch. Loki pants against him, stumbling, and Thor catches him around the waist. 

They tumble onto the couch, and it groans under their weight. Loki whimpers, spreading his legs wide, and Thor settles in between them, pressing against Loki. Loki whimpers, and suddenly Thor is blindingly aware that they’re both hard. His hand is still around Loki’s waist, and he squeezes. Loki gasps, pulling away to mumble against Loki’s lips. 

“Thor, Thor, please,” he moans. 

“What do you want, Loki?” Thor asks. He thinks he could ask Loki that forever, just so he can hear Loki answer:

“You.”

“What you you want from me?” Thor presses, licking a spot that he’s just bitten on Loki’s throat. 

“Wrap your big fingers around my cock, Thor,” Loki moans, shameless now when they’re working their hips against one another and Thor is breathing sharply between every biting kiss. “Make me come against you. Get dirty for me.”

Thor’s heart pounds, and he feels lightheaded for a moment. His cock jumps, pressing hard against the front of his jeans, and he drags his hand across Loki’s belly to free both of them from their trousers. Loki hisses as Thor’s fingers brush against the head of his dick, and Thor kisses his collarbone softly in answer. 

Loki’s scent is all around him, and Thor breathes deeply as he wraps his fingers around both of them. His hand can just barely fit, Loki’s cock long and wonderfully hard, and his own throbbing and thick beside it. There’s a rush of heat. Then Thor’s fingers drag through slickness that Loki must just have conjured, and he laughs breathlessly. Loki laughs to, but the laugh turns to a moan as Thor fingers carefully across his foreskin. His own dick leaks a little as he feels Loki jerk against him. 

“More, Thor,” Loki demands. 

Thor starts to stroke them in response, working his hand from root to tip, pressing their cocks together. Loki writhes beneath him. Thor isn’t sure where to look, whether at Loki’s pleasure drunk eyes, at the way his chest heaves below him, at the way Thor’s arm looks huge and solid as it cradles Loki’s narrow waist. Then he forgets to think. He’s managed to get his hand down the back of Loki’s skin tight leather pants, and he’s cupping Loki’s ass. It’s soft and solid, and when Thor squeezes at it, Loki’s hips jerk against his. 

That’s enough to have Thor’s balls drawing up. If this goes the way it’s starting to, it’ll be the fastest Thor’s come in centuries. He doesn’t have it in him to mind, though, not when Loki is making little broken noises beneath him, eyes staring sightlessly up at Thor. Instead, he just works his hand faster, pleasure settling like an old friend in the base of his spine and like a new lover in his chest. 

“Next time, I want you to fuck me,” Loki manages to get out, and Thor’s gone. His back arches, and he digs his fingers into Loki’s ass as he comes. Dimly, he remembers to keep working his hand over Loki’s cock, but it’s a pale second though in comparison to the mantra running through his head. 

As he comes down, he realizes that his chant is not in his head at all. Instead, he’s whispering Loki’s name over and over, a few curses scattered in between the words. Loki is staring at him in awe, and then, all at once, he comes too. 

Thor’s cock twitches against his wrist as he works Loki through his orgasm, oversensitive. Little shocky glimmers of pleasure dart through Thor every so often, and when he’s finally finished, and Loki whimpers, Thor feels as though he’s been washed, rung out, and hung to dry. He collapses next to Loki on the couch, one of his legs still slung over Loki’s, his hand settling against Loki’s chest. 

“Good?” He whispers, when he has his breath back. “Was that good for you?”

Loki looks at him. For the first time since they were children, there are no dark shadows behind his eyes, no glimmer of sarcasm or fire of irony in his gaze. He holds Thor’s glance for long moments, then reaches down and runs a finger through the come that has pooled on his belly where his shirt has ridden up. He reaches out, pressing the finger to Thor’s lips. Thor takes it dutifully, sucking it clean, tasting Loki’s come and sweat, savoring the flavor. 

“More than good, Thor. More than good.”

**Author's Note:**

> +Find me on tumblr at [saltandlimes](http://saltandlimes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> +Weirdly, I don't even like Valentines day. However, I love you all <3


End file.
